


Pas de Loup

by inlovewithnight



Series: kink_bingo mini-square 2013 [1]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: First Time, M/M, Psychic Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psychic soulbonded wolves gave them an excuse to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pas de Loup

**Author's Note:**

> For the "hypnosis/mind control" square at the kink_bingo gift baskets challenge 2013.

It's not even a surprise any more. Pete's in the same city--in fact, Pete is in the next room, snoring away--and so Gabe is waking up in a cold sweat, feeling muscles that aren't there crawling under his skin.

{{Why,}} he thinks at Guerrero. {{Seriously, why do you do this to me?}}

He's ignored, of course. His bondwolf has other things on his mind right now.

Gabe rolls onto his stomach and breathes against his pillow. It's fine. He can handle this. It happens _every time_ , after all. Guerrero is an alpha male in the prime of life. Gabe pampers him to true excess. His mating opportunities are _not limited_.

But Nightmare is his favorite.

Pete moans in the next room and Gabe's hips jerk against the mattress. The wolves are still flirting, courting, chasing each other up and down the street. This could go on for ages, the heat and discomfort in his belly, the ache in his cock, the constant thrumming in his blood.

The urge to go to Pete and _take_ him.

Gabe takes a deep breath and punches the mattress. This sucks. It sucked when Pete was just another face in the crowd at a Midtown show and Guerrero and Nightmare fucked off into the woods together mid-set and Gabe almost forgot his own words. It sucked when he was trying to sign his contract with Decaydance while Pete stared at him with glazed eyes and the wolves were getting it on in the next conference room. It sucked even more when they were touring together and he was sleeping in Pete's bed every night and Pete was _married_ to a non-bond who didn't approve of wolf lust. And it sucks right now.

{{You suck,}} he tells Guerrero. {{You suck and you're the worst and I'm going to put you on a tofu and rice diet again.}}

All that he gets back is a wave of sensation, concrete under his paws and how Nightmare smells and _breezethroughfur_ when he crosses over a subway grating. It makes Gabe's dick twitch. Fuck.

Pete moans again, louder. Nightmare is probably flooding him with the same stuff, and Pete's too deeply asleep to filter it. He's probably dreaming about being banged senseless by Gabe's wolf and doesn't even know it.

That makes Gabe's dick even harder, because he is a horrible human being.

When Guerrero found him, when they bonded, Gabe's dad sent him to a bonding class in the city. Gabe skipped most of the sessions to lie under a tree in a park and let his oversized, clumsy puppy lick his face while he wrote lyrics about finally understanding the universe and understanding pure, real love. Now he kind of wishes he'd gone to the classes and learned some meditation techniques to filter this shit out.

He rocks down against the mattress, trying to get more friction, more pressure. Guerrero's lust is a haze over his brain, gold and green shot through with colors humans can't even see. Nightmare is still leading him on a chase, but he'll catch her soon. He'll bite the back of her neck and mount her and--

He shoves his hand down and squeezes his dick. He has to slow down or he'll come too soon and end up mindless and desperate and humiliated by the time the wolves are done.

"Gabe."

Pete's standing in the doorway, looking _wrecked_ \--flushed, sweaty, with red marks on his arms where he must've raked his fingernails over his own skin. His pupils are blown out and his lips are parted, red and slick with spit. He's staring at Gabe like he's the ultimate treasure. The only thing that matters.

He's also stark naked and his dick is curved up to his belly, dark and hard. Something in Gabe's head howls at the sight. Spend enough time with wolves, pick up habits. Inevitable.

"Go back to bed," Gabe says, sitting up and pulling the sheet over himself to hide his own erection. "It's just the wolves. It'll be over soon."

Pete shakes his head, then rolls it slowly, his neck cracking. "Let me stay."

"Pete. It's just the fucking wolves." Literally.

Pete takes a step toward the bed. "I'm tired of fighting it."

"It's not real." It hurts to say it, when all of his instincts and all of Guerrero's are screaming the same thing at him. _Take take take hold bite smell **fuck**_. "You don't mean it."

"I know what I feel." Pete takes another step, and the haze in Gabe's head get worse; somehow he misses whatever Pete does next, until he realizes Pete is on the bed and crawling toward him. "Nightmare's tired of me fighting it, too. She wants me to be happy. She wants me to have you."

"Nightmare should mind her own business."

Pete sighs and puts his hand on Gabe's thigh, his fingers flexing lightly against skin that feels superheated over blood that's running as hot as Guerrero's now. "Don't you want me even a little bit?"

"Pete..." Gabe closes his eyes. "How do I know if this is really you?"

Pete lets go of his thigh, and for a minute Gabe feels a rush of mixed relief and disappointment. Then Pete's hands are cradling his face, burning hot against his jaw, and Pete's kissing him.

"Wolves don't kiss," Pete whispers against his mouth. 

Gabe can't answer. He can't _think_. All he can do is kiss Pete again, slow and deep, while the part of him that's Guerrero calls out to the sky.

"Do you want me?" Pete asks again, resting his forehead against Gabe's. He's so hot, burning up, burning out. He'll turn into ashes and blow away on the wind.

"Yes." Gabe pulls Pete against him, wanting more skin, more heat. "Fuck, yes, I do."

Pete laughs, the sound half a sob, and pulls away. It's a physical pain to lose his touch. "Thank God."

"Where are you..." 

Pete turns and get on his hands and knees, ass up in the air, thighs apart. "This part might be Nightmare. A little. But I really need you to fuck me."

The last threads of Gabe's self-control are coming apart under the barrage of want and need and heat from Guerrero, and from _himself_ , looking at Pete like this. Here in front of him, open and vulnerable, _wanting_ him. Telling him it's okay, and all this time he's spent telling himself no can end now.

He only has so much resistance to being offered what he wants.

Pete moans when he touches him, ducking his head and spreading his knees farther apart. Gabe breathes in the scent at the back of his neck, sweat and skin and something Pete puts in his hair, then gives in to Guerrero's instincts rushing through his nerves and bites down. Pete yells at that, a raw noise from deep in the throat, and that's it. The last thread snaps, and Gabe is lost.

They're lost together, and it's a good kind of lost; all impulse and desire, no hesitation or fear. Pete's so relaxed Gabe can push inside him with nothing but spit,   
and the heat of Pete's body around him makes him cry out, echoing Gurrero as he and Nightmare vanish into the park.

"Please," Pete gasps. "Please, please."

"Easy," Gabe whispers, biting his neck again. "I've got you."

"Yes. Fuck, Gabe, please. Don't let me go."

Pete begging breaks something in Gabe, something that maybe needed to be broken. The last reserves of whatever kept him from doing this before, from reachign for Pete and telling him that he even _wanted_ this. He can't go back now, he can't ever stay away. They're in this together.

A flash of amusement flickers in his mind from Guerrero, all that the wolf can spare for him right now, and the image of Guerrero and Nightmare running together. _Mates_. Of course.

He slides his hand around Pete's hip to his groin, getting his hand around Pete's dick and stroking fast and tight. He needs Pete to come for him, needs to feel him tighten and shake. Then he can fall apart, and wrap himself around Pete forever. He doesn't know which of the desires flashing through his mind are really his and which are coming from Guerrero--pinning Pete underneath him, kissing, making a bed together that smells like them and is only theirs, sleeping entangled, licking warm salty tastes from skin and hair.

Pete yells when he comes, muffling the sound against the mattress as Gabe thrusts into him harder and deeper, pushing into the resistance of tightened muscles. He bites again, blindly catching Pete's shoulder and sinking his teeth in as deeply as he can, until the taste of blood stings his tongue. It goes through him like a knife, the parts that are wolf lighting up with desire, and his hips jerk helplessly as he buries himself in Pete.

By the time he can think again, much less move, the wolves are done with their own adventures and the lust-haze in Gabe's brain has been replaced with an equally foggy contenment. From the sleepy smile on Pete's face, it's the same for him.

"Think there's gonna be more puppies?" Pete mumbles, raising his eyebrows.

Gabe laughs. "Probably. They managed it the last couple of times."

"Love their puppies. Gorgeous puppies."

"Well, they've got a pretty mama to make up for their mangy old dad."

Guerrero shoots him an offended thought and Gabe sends love back before he turn his attention back to Pete. Mating is serious business. He smooths his hand over Pete's hair, breathing him in. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Pete shrugs and pushes into his hand. "We need a den."

"Pick a location. Here or LA?"

"Mmm. Don't care. One in each place."

"That works for me." Gabe wraps his arms around Pete and holds him close. "Never get rid of me now, you know."

"That was the plan," Pete sighs. "Upgrade from gang to pack."

Gabe closes his eyes and hopes he'll dream about howling at the moon.


End file.
